the flower seekers

here is what i did.  sometime in july, i removed a bar with honeycomb from the first swarm's hive.  the one on the right.  the hive was full.  i had to.  i saved it however, and did not process it.


in october, on the very last warm day before our first snow, i gave our two hives their insulating panels.  before i did that, though, i put that built out honey comb, into our second swarm's hive.  that swarm came to us later in the season and their hive might not have been full enough to feed them through the winter properly.  so their neighboring hive gifted them.  how sweet they are.

it's only half full of honey comb.  a little brood there in the middle.  but that's cool.  it's perfect honey.  we tasted it.

i am so grateful for these bees.  before we left on our trip out east, i went to the hives and gave them a gentle tap.  i just wanted to say bye, and hear them buzz a little.  just to check in.  you know, like how you check to make sure your baby is breathing when asleep.  each hive gave me a sweet buzz, just loud enough to hear with my ear up to the wood.  i hope they are enjoying their restful months.  in that eery, etherial, dreamy space of this time of year in the northern hemisphere.  i hope we all are tapping into that space, as we go deeper and deeper into the darkness.  the time of year i was born into.  in some ways, i am more comfortable, oddly, in these dark seasons.  so weird.  they feel like home.  spring and summer, i feel like a visitor, on a splendid blissful holiday.  a holiday i look forward to all fall and winter long.  but i really do feel at home now, with the trees bare, my depression front and center, asking me to chill out and cozy up under the shelter of our human hive.  this depression, for me, my personal unique manifestation of it, is seeming to point me in a specific direction.  i am listening this year like i haven't before.  it is fucking hard to sit and let go, so that all the feelings can finally flood in.  once i do, i am finding i am not afraid of the slumber.  the winter.  the dark.  oh it's so f'd.  the resistance i have to stopping.  it's this culture, i am sure of it.  it doesn't stop for winter.  no mam.  well, i must resist that.  i am resisting what is not me, and embracing what is me.  i am eating honey, and staying warm next to my mates.  and you know, our house is kind-of in the same shape as those bee hives.  pretty much.

i love.

i love.

i love.

look what i just bid on.

ha!

if anything, this weird holiday is cool for waking up the gratitude in us.  i just say, let's take it deeper.  somehow, take it deeper.